Mushog's Ride, or Orcbrat Gets Zooped
by Zoop
Summary: With apologies to The Lauderdale for character theft - The Zoop drops a very special modern world gal on the cast of "Orc-brat" because they've been languishing in stasis for too damn long. Time to stir the pot, folks. NOT A CONTINUATION OF ORC-BRAT. COMPLETE
1. Dear Penthouse

**Mushog's Ride**

**Or**

**_Orc-brat_ Gets Zooped**

Ages ago, I read the Lauderdale's wonderful fic, _Orc-brat_ over the course of several days. I was transfixed. I was amazed. I was enthralled. And then it ended.

I waited. I chewed my fingernails, wondering what came next after Chapter 26. Would Leni and Maevyn ever escape? Would Grymawk survive the bite wound? Would Kurbag get pwned for being such a jerk? Would _any_ of them get pwned for being such jerks? Who was going to get their ass kicked over the misplaced silverware?

Like many, I'm sure, I imagined any number of scenarios where pwnage would be dished out and the girls set free. Only recently did I actually come up with a way. A very _interesting_ way. A decidedly Zoop-like way. And yet... not what you'd expect.

Playing with Orcs takes you to very dark places. Some of them even an _Orc_ doesn't feel comfortable exploring. I'm sure many of you who've found something you like in these guys will wish you were Shannon. And then quite suddenly... you'll be glad you're not.

Have a seat. But you'll only need... _the edge._

**Disclaimer:**

All characters except Shannon (who is mine) belong to The Lauderdale, as does the setting, the headcanon, the lore, and the character backstories. If you haven't read _Orc-brat_, you likely won't get any of the inside jokes pulled mercilessly straight out of the narrative of that glorious fic. So do yourself a favor: READ IT.

This little tale is by no means an inserted lost moment intended by the author (who will expand on her views below), nor is it a continuation of the story. THIS NEVER HAPPENS IN _ORC-BRAT_. Don't look for mention of these events when The Lauderdale picks her story back up.

_~ Zoop_

* * *

**Foreword from a Disgruntled Author**

In my capacity as the author of _Orc-brat_, I must condemn "Mushog's Ride" and its underlying perversions of character, plot and scenery in the strongest possible terms of my indignation and resentment. The appearance of the woman Shannon presents a gross disruption to the world of my characters as they inhabit it. That she proceeds to have carnal relations with over half my Orc band is, to my mind, _a wholly unacceptable tampering with the tale._

As the author of a stunningly original fanfiction work of fanfiction originality, I have been painstaking in my efforts to delineate certain totally unprecedented themes and character dynamics (mine!) With a disregard for narrative integrity breathtaking in its casual attitude and sheer recklessness, Zoop has wrought havoc upon my entire cast. It is not enough for her to pervert my characters: she must even pervert their perversions. Shrah'rar hasn't screwed a horse in over a week, and I don't think Mushog has tried to molest anyone since –

Well. We're all a little worried about Mushog.

I fear for their physical and emotional stability; also for the many trees in this story, compelled to bear the weight or force of sundry bodies engaged in libidinous activities presented ad infinitum. Yavanna wept.

In short, don't read this story for the sometimes frighteningly apt elucidation of certain plot points and themes, or because I'm a slow author and who knows when the next chapter of OB is coming out. Read it because Zoop is hysterical and you're going to have fun.

_~ Laud, AKA The Lauderdale_

* * *

**Dear Penthouse...**

"Did I ever tell you about the..."

"Most likely."

"How about..."

"Heard that one, too, I'll warrant."

Mushog fumed, shooting a glare at Kurbag. They still had a mile or so to hike and it was obvious Kurbag was going to make it as dull as possible. The Uruk stared sullenly ahead, grumbling under his breath.

The game trail they were following was the 'quickest' way to a village Bragdagash was fairly certain still stood, though where he got his knowledge from was a mystery to Mushog. Didn't really matter anyway. If he was right, there'd be spoils and plunder aplenty. The leader hadn't steered them wrong yet.

He was just wracking his brains for a good joke he might not have told in awhile when Kurbag stopped, standing stiff and alert.

"Hear that?" the tall half-Uruk said quietly.

Mushog strained his ears, but not for long. A low susurrus of barking and snarling made itself known. Furrowing his brow, he met Kurbag's equally suspicious look.

"What do you think?" Mushog asked. "Getting closer?"

Kurbag listened for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Yeah. Headed this way."

Grinning, Mushog drew his sword. "And I thought there wouldn't be any fun on this trip." Kurbag pulled his own with an equally feral smile.

The path dipped into lower ground some ways ahead, so the two Uruk-hai stayed put. If the pack was too big, they'd have enough room to make a run for it. By the sound of it, there were more than a handful of wolves on the run, but neither was ready to admit worry over it to the other just yet.

Unexpectedly, a figure came running up the rise, arms and legs pumping hard. Mushog grinned.

"_Tark_," he crooned. Seeing the long hair and the clear evidence of unfettered tits bouncing in its jerkin, his grin broadened. "And a female. This one's _mine_, Elf-fucker."

"Shut up," Kurbag snapped.

The _tark_ didn't seem to see them, or was too afraid of the wolves chasing her to consider a pair of Orcs as threatening enough to stop her. She ran up the path right at the bemused Orcs.

"Don't stand their gawking!" she yelled. "Run if you don't want your asses chewed!"

Stunned, Mushog darted a look at Kurbag. Then the _tark_ reached them and grabbed their slack wrists. Whirling the pair of them around, she all but dragged them forward.

"_Run_, you dumb fucks!"

Glancing back, Kurbag saw the first wave of wolves come over the rise and his eyes widened. "Shit!" He needed no further coaxing from the _tark_. Mushog picked up on Kurbag's alarm and didn't even bother looking back.

Once they were running alongside her, the _tark_ let go of them. Her eyes darted from one side of the trail to the other, in constant motion, looking for a refuge.

Mushog was a fast runner on the flat, but this _tark_ was overtaking him. By the smell of her, she'd been running for some while, yet she still had enough left to outrun an Uruk. Something else wasn't quite right. He caught no appreciable whiff of fear off her. Not of the wolves, and strangely not of them, either. Interesting.

"There!" she suddenly cried, and veered off the game trail. The Uruk-hai automatically followed, crashing through the underbrush in her wake. A stand of tall, thick trees lay ahead. The tree she picked had branches low enough for them to grab. "Up the tree! Up the tree!" Then she leaped at the lowest branch and pulled herself up.

She didn't just leave them there, either. She stopped a few yards up and turned to make sure they were coming. Mushog hadn't launched himself as well as she did, and found that without momentum, he wasn't going to get himself up. _Now_ he looked back, and saw the not-so-distant bodies of a larger pack of wolves than he'd ever seen mustered in one place, heading for the break in the trail they just made.

"Fuck!" he yelled, and once more made a grab for the branch. To his surprise, there was a pale hand grasping above him.

"Come on!" the _tark_ barked. "Take my hand!"

Without thinking, Mushog grabbed her wrist and let her help him scramble up into the tree. It didn't register for a bit that she did most of the work.

"Now you," she called down to Kurbag, who stood there nearly gasping his last breath. He kept staring at the tree, unable to move. Her voice lowered to a soothing cadence. "Come on, gimme your hand. You can do this. Believe me, the alternative is worse. Let's go, now."

Kurbag blinked up at her, swallowed hard, and took her hand. She wasn't particularly gentle in hauling him up, but she managed to get him off the ground.

"All right, guys, keep going up," she said in a businesslike fashion. "Those fuckers jump." And she began to climb.

"_Mine_," Mushog hissed at Kurbag.

"I'm gonna be sick," the half-Uruk breathed, clutching the tree trunk tightly.

"_Move it_!" the _tark_ yelled down at them. "Maybe White Hand Orcs can't jump, but hungry pissed wolves sure as fuck can!"

"Can't!" Kurbag snapped. He was shaking hard.

"You great hairy twat, get your fucking ass up the god damned tree!" the _tark_ roared.

At that moment, the ground below them filled to capacity with wolves. The cacophany of their barks and howls was deafening. The ones closest to the tree began jumping for the low-hanging fruit frozen in terror just within reach.

Squirming and shimmying down to his level, the _tark_ grabbed Kurbag by the hair and bounced his forehead off the tree trunk sharply. "Snap out of it! One of them almost got you! A couple more feet won't kill you, moron, but staying here sure as fuck will!"

Grabbing the back of his shirt, she hauled and pulled, urging him with a stunning variety of descriptive phrases, none of them flattering, to climb a bit higher. Kurbag's fear turned to anger, and he moved up a few more feet with the hope that he might get a swipe at the damn _tark_ if he had a little less to worry about.

Mushog hadn't moved from his perch, watching the _tark_ harrying Kurbag. His dick was so hard he thought he might explode if a breath of wind hit it. She didn't look anything like a Dunlander, nothing like an Easterling. She had a Gondor look about her, but only in coloring. Pale skin, dark eyes, and dark hair, so not from Rohan. In short, not at all one of the Men who allied with the White Hand _or_ the Red Eye during the war. So why was she helping them?

Breathing a sigh of relief, the _tark_ ascended to where Mushog was sitting and nigh collapsed in the crotch of a great branch.

"Phew!" she said with a sharp exhalation. "Wolves do _not_ have a sense of humor, do they?"

Scanning her leather-clad body with hungry eyes, Mushog lamented that they were up a tree. That made things... difficult. "What were they chasing you for?"

Taking a deep breath to still her racing heart, she replied, "Threw rocks at'em. _So_ sensitive."

Startled out of his leisurely examination and enticing imaginings, he frowned. "You threw _rocks_ at them? What the fuck did you do _that_ for?"

She shrugged half-heartedly. "I was bored."

"You could've got us _killed_!" he roared, suddenly furious. "Cause you were _bored_?"

"Haven't you done worse for less of a reason than that?" she asked mildly, arching her brow.

Dismissing her statement as if she hadn't said it, he thrust a clawed finger in her face and snarled, "You _owe_ me."

"Do I?" she asked incredulously. "How do you figure that?"

"We had something to do, you know," he snapped. "Weren't just fuckin' around. Now we're stuck up a tree with a _tark_ bitch and can't go nowhere for hours."

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Huh. Didn't know you were there... didn't _leave_ your asses to distract the wolves so I could get away... helped you both up the tree... but if you say I _owe_ you..." Shrugging, she sighed, "All right." And she moved to sit on the branch he was astride, facing him, and began untying the laces of his breeches.

Taken completely by surprise, Mushog gasped, "Whuh...what're you doing?"

She grinned. "Paying a debt."

"In a fucking _tree_?"

Her hands quickly freed his cock and she smiled, admiring it for a moment. She looked him in the eyes. "Better hold on tight, then." Leaning down, she took him in her mouth.

While Mushog had stuck his cock in a lot of places, even the occasional mouth, he'd never gotten sucked off by someone who knew what they were doing, _and_ was willing to have him.

He thought he'd died and gone to the sweetest dream imaginable.

She wasn't being quick about it, either. She teased with her tongue and varied her speed. She fondled his balls like a lover. Once he grabbed her head to push her down all the way, and her fist shot into his gut. Releasing him, she glared hotly. "Hands off or I puke in your trousers. _Comprend__é_?" He blinked and nodded, grabbing the branch beside him and nearly crushing it. She snorted at him with satisfaction, then went back to work.

Glancing down, he realized Kurbag wasn't aware of what was happening. Though he was barely coherent himself, Mushog didn't want his mate to miss out on _this_. "Oi, Kurbag, will you look at this? Tell me I'm not dreaming."

Without turning, Kurbag growled, "I'm not moving. If I move, I'll fall outta this fucking tree."

"No, look at this, really, you'll thank... thank... fuck... uunnngh... thank yourself," he gasped. She was getting him close. Any minute now and he'd come...

"Don't know what the fuck your problem is," Kurbag muttered as he slowly turned his head. He feared sudden movements would make him lose his grip and fall. That the ground was seething with two dozen wolves was almost an afterthought. His eyes widened. "What the _fuck_ is going on up there?" he bellowed.

Mushog's slack-jawed expression, blissful whimpers and feral grunts weren't nearly as shocking as the _tark's_ head bouncing on the Uruk's cock. Kurbag had nothing further to say. There just wasn't enough air in his lungs to push a single word out.

When Mushog came, he came hard, feeling it all the way down to his toes. They were _curling_ in his boots. His entire body stiffened and went completely limp. If he hadn't been astride a thick branch with the trunk of the tree behind him, he would have fallen right out. And not cared. Not at all.

With powerful tugs, she sucked the last of his seed from his cock before sitting up. A trickle of black semen ran from the corner of her mouth, and she licked it off. "Now then," she purred, "I trust that makes us even."

It took a couple seconds for Mushog to get enough breath to answer. "Yeah. Even."

Smiling indulgently, she tucked him into his breeches and retied the laces with gentle hands. "Name?" she asked, arching her brow.

"Muh... Mushog," he gasped.

"Shannon," she replied, then stuck a hand out. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mushog."

He reached out and took hold of her hand, yanking her toward him. Her hand shot out and hit the tree next to his head, preventing herself from being pulled completely off-balance. She looked him hard in the eyes, smile gone. "Mind your manners, 'Shog. I can kill you six different ways right now. Your piss-poor friend down there can't do a thing to help you. Don't imagine I haven't had to deal with grabby Uruk-hai before you."

"Hey, if you're done up there," Kurbag called hopefully, "got any left for me?"

Narrowing her eyes at Mushog, she turned slightly to address Kurbag. "_Ukh htolat latobgur_._ Lat skûm zash Golug._"

Indignation at her resistance forgotten, Mushog laughed loudly at his friend's expense. Then he sobered. "That... that was the Isengarder tongue. Where'd you learn that?"

Sitting straight, she regarded him for a moment, then shrugged. "My shieldbrothers taught me."

"Shieldbrothers?" Mushog said. His eyes narrowed. "What shieldbrothers?"

Shannon gave him a strange look, as if she were peeling his head open and fiddling around with his brains. "They survived Helm's Deep, barely. I helped them out. We got... close." Her tone and expression didn't invite more probing. Mushog missed the signals entirely.

"How close?" he leered. Her stoney look was all the answer he got. "Where are they now?"

Her eyes hardened even more. "Killed by Men," she said slowly. Anyone with sense would have shut up.

"Didn't get you, I see," Mushog pressed on stupidly. "What happened there?"

He never saw it coming. Her fist shot out like a striking snake and connected with his throat so sharp and hard he thought he'd choke to death. He couldn't even strike back; his hands were too busy massaging his neck.

"Hey!" Kurbag yelled. She shot him a furious look, as though his opinion was not welcome and carried no weight.

"Mind your own affairs, Elf-fucker," she snarled, then turned her attention back to Mushog.

"You'll... pay for... for that," he gasped.

"Always wanting to be paid for shit you did to yourself, huh?" she smirked. "Here's some advice: when I give you this look," she said, glaring hard at him, "you'd best shut your pie hole. And don't think you can best me, either. I've had to knock the heads of _three_ horny Uruk-hai at once. I've got moves you wouldn't believe."

Mushog's eyebrows rose a trifle. "Three? At once?"

One side of her mouth quirked a touch in a slight smile. "Good times," she sighed wistfully. "Good times."

* * *

**Translation:**

_Ukh htolat latobgur_._ Lat skûm zash Golug._ = Go fuck yourself. You smell like Elf.


	2. Uruk-hai Stamina: Overrated

**Uruk-hai Stamina: Overrated**

"My ass is killing me," Mushog grumbled. They'd been up in the tree for an hour and the wolves, while quieter now, had yet to lose interest. Some were even asleep. Kurbag had finally loosened up enough to find a more comfortable position, though he hadn't moved any higher.

The _tark_ had climbed into the upper branches and was collecting nuts. Mushog hadn't asked why; he was in too foul a mood to bother.

Not a single taste after that amazing suck. She apparently didn't think he required recompense for getting decked in the throat, instead promising him more of the same if he didn't keep his fucking hands to himself. Sure, the need was quenched for a good long while, which for him was about a half hour, but now he was up and ready for a repeat, and she was ten feet above him filling a pouch with walnuts for some reason.

Everytime he looked up, he caught a glimpse of her agile moves; hanging upside down from branches, standing with her legs spread for balance... He wished she was wearing a dress.

Eventually, she dropped back to the branch he was astride. Her hard landing, clearly done on purpose if her smirk was any indication, jarred the branch under his balls. He sucked in a sharp breath and growled at her.

"Quit your whining," she muttered as she settled herself down. Taking the pack off her back, she rummaged its contents for a moment, finally coming up with a forked stick. Mushog narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"What's that?"

"We'll see, won't we?" she replied cryptically. A thong of sorts hung loosely, its ends attached to the fork. In the middle of the thong was what looked like a square of leather. Setting her pack in a secure spot, she opened the pouch full of walnuts at her hip and hooked her legs around the branch to keep herself from tipping. Then she took a walnut from the pouch, set it in the leather square, and pulled back on the thong. To Mushog's amazement, it _stretched_ with an odd sound that was nothing like sinew or gut. She pointed down toward the lazy wolves and let go of the walnut.

The thong snapped forward, shooting the nut so fast he couldn't see its passage. He heard it hit, though. Her shot struck a wolf in the flank with a solid _whap_, followed by a pained yelp. Shannon chuckled and loaded up another. Then she began to hum to herself, and he caught the occasional phrase that sounded a bit Orkish, but no dialect he'd ever heard.

_Du... Du hast... Du hast mich... Du hast mich gefragt... Du hast mich gefragt und ich hab nichts gesagt_

As she giggled with each hit, even crowing when she hit one in the eye, Mushog found himself grinning. This _tark _was a lot more entertaining than he thought she would be.

The barrage eventually convinced the wolves that their quarry was inaccessible but not helpless, and they eventually started darting off for other, more earthbound game. Shannon smiled and put her slingshot back in her pack. Turning to Mushog, she said, "Don't bother."

His smile slid off and he frowned. "What?"

She jerked her head back in the direction the Uruk-hai were headed earlier. "The village back there. Another band already got the drop on them. The place is a slaughterhouse." Gesturing toward the last few wolves still diligently, hopefully gazing up at them, she went on, "This lot were having a snack on the dead."

"And they thought you'd taste better?" he asked provocatively, folding his arms over his chest.

"I can name you some Orcs who'd vouch for how good I taste," she said with a wink. Nodding to the wolves, she went on, "Their meal got interrupted by a company of _tark_ soldiers. Apparently this band wasn't all that efficient and let a few get away to fetch help." She shrugged with little interest. "Too little, too late. The place is still crawling with them, and they've got trackers out in the woods trying to figure out where the band went. Unless you've got one hell of a nose on you, you might not notice them until they have a pike up your ass."

"I think I'd notice a pike up my ass," Mushog chuckled.

"At which point, it would cease to matter," she smirked.

"So... you with that band?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Shannon shook her head. "I'll fuck an Orc a hundred ways from Sunday, but I don't hunt my own. Gal's gotta have standards."

"What about those _tarks_ that killed your shieldbrothers, eh?" he prodded. Her friendly expression chilled. "You kill them?"

"I was actually beginning to like you, Mushog," she sighed, shaking her head. "Pie hole. _Shut it_. Or it gets shut _for_ you."

"So you'll fuck an Orc," he said, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. A smile played on his lips. "Starting with _this_ one?"

She gave him a mockingly indignant look. "In a _tree_? Don't be silly."

He glanced at the ground at the base of the tree, then looked back at her. "Wolves're gone." He jerked his head. "Ground's better, I'm guessing."

"Mmmm," she purred, looking him over, noting his erection. Her brow twitched up a bit, betraying her interest. "You _are_ a tempting little fucker. And I suppose you've got enough going on that I just _might_ be satisfied with your offering." Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she hedged, "I don't know, though. Something tells me you're a minute man."

Frowning, Mushog blinked. "A what?"

"Minute man," she repeated. "Come too fast. Don't give a gal a good enough showing. And as bad as you appear to be itching for it, I'm thinking a _half_ a minute man."

"I'll make you scream my name," he growled, inexplicably insulted by her assessment.

"More like I'll go, 'oh, _please_, is this all you've got? Where's my vibrator?'" She held her gut, she was laughing so hard at her own apparent cleverness, though the Uruk had no idea what the hell a 'vibrator' was. Wiping a tear from her cheek, she giggled a bit more at his sour look and said, "Okay, okay. Get your ass down. Let's see whatcha got."

He blinked with surprise. "You're serious?"

"Yeah, go on," she said, waving him down. She grabbed her pack and put her shoulders through the straps. "I'll make it easy on you; drop your pants and lay down, I'll ride you. How's that?"

Mushog blinked some more. His jaw worked a little, unable to get a well-formed word out.

"Look, if you wanna fuck, you gotta play by my rules," she said reasonably as she started down.

Growling lustily, he swung his leg off the branch and began climbing after her. His eagerness shook the whole tree.

"Fuck, Mushog!" Kurbag barked, clutching the trunk more tightly.

"If you've got it in you, pinch me on the way down," Mushog commented as he passed. "I do _not_ wanna fucking wake up in the middle of this."

"What're you doing?" the half-Uruk asked shakily, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Don't you worry about it," Mushog replied hastily. "Watch if you want, though."

"Watch what?"

Mushog just giggled with excitement as he dropped to the ground, landing on all fours. He was immediately put on his back by a boot to the face.

He hadn't even seen her and now he was staring dazedly at the sky.

"There we are," he heard her say calmly. After a woozy minute or two, he felt her hands on his laces. Shaking his head, he looked up in time to see her squat down over him, her own leather breeches already gone, and take his cock inside her.

"You are _not_ fucking _me_!" he snarled, and tried to pitch her off. She balled up her fist and backhanded him across the face, once more knocking his brains loose. Then she grabbed his wrists and pinned him to the ground.

"Take it like a bitch and _like_ it, Mushog," she snarled, a manic grin on her face. Then she began to move her hips, slowly at first, squeezing him with her strong inner muscles. The fight went out of him almost instantly as the feel of her overtook his will. "Hold on for me, 'Shog," she murmured. "Don't come till I tell you to."

"Come... when I... _wanna_ come," he gasped defiantly, and she smirked.

"Ever been inside a woman when she comes?" she asked breathlessly as she picked up the pace a little.

"Can't... remember... much of... anything," he replied. His own name was proving a difficult proposition as well.

"Worth the wait," she breathed next to his ear, flicking her tongue along the pointed ridge before clamping her flat teeth on the skin just behind the ear. She bit hard and held on.

Mushog's hands clenched into fists and he groaned. She loosed her hold and licked the bitten area, though she'd not broken the skin. He didn't care; she could put her tongue anywhere she liked.

"Hang on," she whispered, moving faster. "God dammit, this is good," she gasped. "Don't be shocked... if I call you Taumor... once in awhile. He was a good bottom fuck."

"Don't care what you call me," he growled. He was clenching his teeth, trying not to let himself go. "How much longer, eh?" he grunted.

"Almost there," she hissed. Now she was humping his cock so furiously he lost it. "Oh, you mother _fucker_!" she roared, yet she didn't stop. He actually felt a little embarrassed, but dammit, she was fucking him hard! How was he supposed to keep from exploding? "You better hope your dick stays up," she snarled angrily.

Too soon, however, Mushog's greatest failing made itself known as his little Uruk flagged and passed out.

Slowing to a stop, Shannon glared down at him. "Nice," she snapped sarcastically. Then she got off him, his seed running down her leg. She fished a towel out of her pack and wiped herself off, grumbling under her breath, then pulled her breeches and boots on. "Worthless," she added, shaking her head.

Mushog, meanwhile, stared up at the sky, oblivious to her derision. He didn't even move when she threw the semen-soaked towel, hitting him in the face. He slowly reached up and pulled it away to see her standing over him with a thoughtful expression.

"All right," she sighed. "You got me close. _Maybe_ I'll give you another chance. But you'd better not fuck it up. I don't like limp dick Orcs."

A loud _oof_ interrupted Mushog's feeble attempt at a response, and they both looked over to see Kurbag face down on the ground at the foot of the tree, groaning as he picked himself back up.

"Nice dismount," Shannon laughed. "I'll give you an eight for style."

* * *

**Lyric:**

Rammstein, "Du Hast" (my 5-year-old son's favorite song)


	3. The Campsite of Orkly Delights, Part 1

**The Campsite of Orkly Delights, Part 1**

"Oi, fetch us a skin, Brat," Grushak growled lazily from his spot under the tree. The sun was hot, but the shade was cool. He preferred not moving very much when the sun was high.

Grumbling under her breath, Maevyn got up and walked _slowly_ to the packs. She passed too close to Rukshash, who took a swipe at her legs.

"See you move it a bit more lively, there," he muttered, smirking as she squealed and scampered on her errand.

"Where are those two idiots?" Nazluk asked no one in particular. Hrahragh shrugged and continued methodically sharpening one of his knives on the whetstone he wore about his neck on a thong.

"They _have_ been gone a bit longer than expected," Bragdagash said thoughtfully.

"Think they ran into trouble?" Shrah'rar asked worriedly. "Can't afford no trouble." He eyed Grymawk, still recovering from a really bad bite wound. The smaller Orc looked a bit nauseous.

"Knowing Mushog, it's _Kurbag_ who's run into 'trouble,'" Rukshash suggested with a leer. "Or more like _backed_ into it."

"Like... fell over a log or somethin'?" Pryzsrim asked with a confused expression. General hilarity followed his statement, further confounding the dim-witted Orc.

Grushak snickered as he took a pull off the skin Maevyn passed him. "Don't turn your back on Mushog, lads. He gets worse every day."

Maevyn retreated to the furs, hunkering down beside Leni. Between them was a bulky pack, full to bursting. Leni's hand lay protectively, almost possessively on the pack.

Grushak's ears pricked at the sound of distant voices approaching, and he sat up. A general sense of alarm ran through the group, hands going to sword hilts. After a moment, Bragdagash relaxed. "It's them." Rising, he strode around the campfire to meet his wayward scouts and give them a little 'chat' about lolly-gagging on a recon mission.

Coming through the trees were Mushog and Kurbag, all right, but they had someone else with them.

"What the...?" Bragdagash started with surprise.

Mushog was still laughing over something and hanging off a _tark_ woman, his arm around her shoulders companionably. Kurbag walked a little uncomfortably behind them, a slight limp in his step. The _tark _was smiling... and _laughing_.

The leader recovered himself and straightened menacingly, fists on his waist. "What the fuck is this?" he snarled, pointing at the woman. She raised an eyebrow and her smile disappeared, to be replaced with appraisal. From a male Orc, Bragdagash would have taken it as a challenge for a fight. From _her_, it felt like being stripped naked and judged. There was no fear in her eyes, no scent of it on her.

Actually, there was _Mushog_ stink on her. Bragdagash had smelled that little fucker's musk long enough to recognize it.

Ignoring him, Mushog leveled a threatening finger at Nazluk, sitting stunned by the campfire, and growled, "I don't give a _fuck_ what you have to say, Nazluk. This one's mine, she's off limits. Nobody fucks her but me." Nazluk's brow creased indignantly.

"Just what we need," he snarled. "More thinskins stinking up the camp."

Leni's face was a mask of horror. _Not another, please no._

"Leni, what do we do?" Maevyn whispered frantically.

"I do not know," Leni replied worriedly. The woman looked utterly unafraid. How could she not know what she was walking into?

"Well, don't _I_ just feel all flattered and shit?" Shannon announced. Scanning the group, she smirked. "Mushog, my dear, you didn't tell me you had so many hot friends."

"Hey, wait a sec-...," he started to say, but was cut off by a good-natured fist to the gut. Eyes alighting on Bragdagash, she smiled.

"You're the leader, right?"

"Who the fuck are you?" he snapped.

"Leader gets it first," she said, doing a slow circle around him, openly admiring his muscular form. "Mmm, nice ass. Yeah. Over there. Get in the bushes and drop'em."

"What?"

Turning to look over the rest of the stunned, open-mouthed faces, she added, "I'll do him, then _he_ gets to decide who's next." Glancing back at Bragdagash, she jerked her head toward the copse of trees and thick underbrush she'd pointed him to earlier. "Get a move on. We're losing daylight here."

The camp was deathly silent.

"_Ukh pugh-lab drûthu-ishiz, grat_!" she barked, and he jumped back in shock. "You, in the bushes, drop your pants, _chop chop_!"

Someone snorted. Another wheezed. Barely suppressed snickers started sneaking out. Before the whole camp dissolved in open mocking hilarity at his expense, Bragdagash snarled, "I don't take orders from fucking _tarks_!"

"How about a _tark_ that's gonna fuck you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

The leader's face went slack and he blinked rapidly as he processed her question. Swallowing hard, he shrugged as casually as he could manage under the circumstances. "All right, that's different."

In a bewildered daze, he followed the _tark_ woman into the bushes.

"So... uh...," he began awkwardly, and immediately shut his mouth as she hauled off her shirt.

"Name?" she asked as she unhooked her belt. For the first time, he noticed the long knife sheathed at her hip. He wondered absently if Mushog knew she came into camp armed.

Bragdagash didn't hold on to that worry for long.

Glancing up after tossing her belt and blade aside, Shannon repeated a little less patiently, "_Name_?"

"Tits," he replied, licking his lips, transfixed. Quite unlike your average _tark_ woman's breasts, Shannon's bore some pretty impressive bite marks that could only come from one source. Or many sources, but one race. Bragdagash's eyes were nigh popping out of his head. They looked so... so... _good_.

Smirking, she toed off her boots and untied the laces on her leather breeches. In moments, she'd divested herself of every stitch of clothing. Cocking a hip, she tilted her head and looked at him expectantly.

"All right, 'Tits,'" she grinned indulgently. Sauntering over, she reached up and patted his cheek lightly. "Since you're the leader, you get to be on top. I'm kinda nice that way."

Bragdagash shook his head sharply, snapping out of it. "Bragdagash," he said, untying his laces. "Name's Bragdagash."

She sat on the sparse grass under the trees and leaned back on her hands with her knees raised and closed. "Thought you might have a cooler name than 'Tits.'" Her eyebrows shot up when he pulled his cock out. "Ah, _hell_ yeah," she said appreciatively. She parted her legs as he knelt down in front of her and crawled forward.

"Gonna get rid of that fucker's stink on you," Bragdagash growled low, covering her as he advanced. She obligingly settled flat on her back, a smirk on her face.

"I'm counting on it," she purred.

* * *

Mushog paced in agitation, muttering under his breath.

"Nothing good can come of it," Nazluk remarked. "More accommodations made, and this one nothing like the other two." He shook his head. "Now she's got Bragdagash crawling after her."

"Shut it, you," Mushog barked. Shooting a hostile look at the aggravating Orc, he snorted and resumed his march around the camp.

"Seems to me," Rukshash said casually, "that this _tark_ got a whole lot of Mushog's funk on her and none of yours, Kurbag. Now why is that?"

Sitting sullenly next to Leni, who'd kept her head down from the moment the woman propositioned Bragdagash, Kurbag growled a warning and glared at Rukshash but didn't reply.

Finding a target for some of his frustrations, Mushog grinned. "Wasn't for lack of trying, eh Kurbag?" He snorted with amusement.

Grushak grunted. "Tried, but didn't _get_?" He shook his head. "I'm disappointed in you. I truly am. Little thing like her..."

Kurbag bared his teeth but kept his silence.

"Yeah," Mushog snickered. "Hey Kurby, open your mouth and show'em your _balls_." Then he doubled over with laughter.

"_Shut_," Kurbag snapped, his voice cracking like a pubescent teen's. He cleared his throat. "Shut _up_!"

Beside him, Leni pressed her lips tightly together to keep her titter of shocked amusement from escaping. As the Orcs fell over themselves laughing, Maevyn leaned close to Leni and whispered, "What's so funny?" Leni only shook her head slightly, conveying a _not now_ message to the girl.

But as the sounds of Bragdagash and the _tark's_ tryst started ratcheting up, the group's laughter petered out. Pointed ears pricked and heads perked up like meerkats, all trained on the copse.

In amongst Bragdagash's grunting and snarling were the unmistakable sounds of the woman clearly enjoying the hell out of whatever he was doing.

"Is that... is that what a woman sounds like?" Grymawk asked incredulously.

"Yes," Rukshash said, smiling with fond remembrance, "yes it is."

"That, uh... that sounds... really good," Grushak growled, his hand straying to his tented breeches and rubbing a little. Seeing the big Orc's seemingly absent gesture, Leni's eyes widened with alarm. She started to rise, to retreat to a safer location, but Kurbag grabbed her arm and scowled at her.

Nazluk shook his head disdainfully. "By the nose, she'll have you."

"By the _cock's_ what I'd prefer," Mushog chuckled.

"Whattayou think they're doin' in there?" Pryszrim asked.

"Having tea," Grushak snarled sarcastically.

"Really?"

"Have a look for yourself."

An eager grin on his face, Pryszrim hopped to his feet and trotted to the copse. Peering through the bushes, his eyes widened. "They're not having tea," he observed.

"_Get out of it_!" Bragdagash roared, and Pryszrim backed away quickly. "You'll get your turn!"

Mushog sidled up to the shaken Orc. "So... what're they doin'?"

"He's... um... he's fucking her," Pryszrim said, quite unnecessarily given the sounds coming from the copse.

Rolling his eyes, Mushog growled, "_How_ is he fucking her? Is she on top?"

"No, _he's_ on top."

"_FUCK!_" Mushog roared, storming away to do another pissed circuit around the camp.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Grushak snapped.

"She fucking _rode_ me!" Mushog complained viciously. "Wouldn't let _me_ on top!"

Smirking at the foolish pup, Rukshash asked, "Are you the leader?"

"_No_," Mushog growled petulantly.

The old Orc gestured grandly. "_There_ you are."

Mushog glared at Rukshash for a moment, then threw himself down next to Grushak and sulked.

Pryszrim took a more furtive peek into the copse and came out giggling. "She's clawed up his ass."

Grushak's expression turned hungry. "You're _kidding_ me."

The little Orc shook his head, laughing too hard to say anything else.

"Oh my god," the _tark's_ voice moaned, getting louder each moment and effectively drowning out every noise coming from Bragdagash. "Oh... oh yeah... Oh... ooo, yeah that's got it... that's gonna do it, Braggy... oh god yeah... oooo... urrrrrgh... yes... yes... uhn... AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!"

"Son of a _fuck_!" Mushog roared, slamming his fist on the ground.

Rukshash laughed so hard he thought he might rupture his spleen.

In the relative quiet, they clearly heard the _tark_ say breathlessly, "_That _is why you are the leader."

A couple minutes later, Bragdagash emerged with more of a stagger than a swagger, holding his breeches up because he hadn't the wherewithal to tuck himself back in or tie the laces closed. Aiming for one of the fallen trees they used for seating, he slumped down awkwardly and promptly fell over backwards, landing flat with his legs still on the log. He seemed rather content with that arrangement, and made no effort to correct it. The other Orcs stared at their leader with mixed fascination, anticipation, and a fair amount of worry.

Raising one hand weakly, Bragdagash gasped, "Grushak. Go. Go get yuh some."

Worry erased, Grushak leaped to his feet and loped over to the copse, all aquiver.

He found a stark naked _tark_ standing in front of him, her feet planted apart and her bent arms out to the sides, twisting and flexing her torso and rolling her hips. Her pale-skinned body was _covered_ with bite and claw marks, long healed, along with a few fresh ones. Grushak found his cock trying to get even harder.

Noticing him standing there, she grinned. "Oh good, it's you. Name?"

"Grushak," he growled, lips curled in a leer.

"All righty then," she said, shaking her limbs out. "Hope you don't mind. I'm a little done in south of the border." She sighed. "I'm afraid I'll have to just suck you off. That all right?"

He drew a deep breath of her into his nose and shrugged. "For now." He flexed his hands, anticipating the marks of his own he'd put on her while she was at it.

"Good man," she said, clapping his upper arm encouragingly. "Soldier on. Excellent." Her gaze descended and a grin curved her lips. "Shall _I_ open my present, or do you want to do the honors?"

"Help yourself," he purred.

"Fair enough," she said with a smile. "Have a seat. You're gonna need it."

* * *

Pryszrim's peeking earned him a well-aimed rock in the eye this time. Grushak wasn't any more interested in an audience or an interruption than Bragdagash had been. But the small Orc wasn't particularly dismayed.

Giggling behind his hand, Pryszrim turned and announced to the group, "She's _sucking_ his _cock_!"

"_FUCK_!" Mushog bellowed.

"You didn't get that either?" Rukshash asked while trying to keep a straight face.

"Whuh...well, yeah I did, but... but that's _mine_," Mushog replied lamely.

"I don't think you own her, friend," Rukshash told him with amusement.

Bragdagash, having finally righted himself on the log opposite, said with a sigh, "Mushog, she ain't yours. She don't belong to any of us. And she's not going to, I promise you that."

Frowning, Mushog sagged a little. He'd hoped she'd be as much his as Squeaker was Kurbag's. That would have been nice. An awesome fuck anytime he wanted it, from a woman who knew how to give it good... He chewed his lip and wondered how he'd manage to get possession of this sweet deal without turning Shannon into a lifeless meatsack like Kurbag's Elf.

Grushak's grunting reached a swift crescendo then settled into loud gasping breaths. Mushog could almost feel her tongue on his balls again, just listening to his mate getting off. It was completely unfair.

The bushes parted and Grushak swayed a little coming out. Mushog leaped up eagerly and trotted over. "My turn?" he asked hopefully.

"Nah," Grushak gasped. "Not you. She said not the Elf-fucker, not the cocksucker, and especially not you."

"Not _ME_?" Mushog roared. "I brought her to the fucking _camp_! When the fuck is it _my_ turn?" Then he frowned. "What cocksucker?"

Grinning, Grushak pointed. "Picked you right out, Nazluk. Who'd've known, huh?"

"What're you talking about?" Nazluk snapped indignantly. Seeing everyone falling over laughing, he narrowed his eyes. "Oh, this is good. Believe the _tark_ and her words. You will swear the sky is green next, if only she will suck your cock."

"Good enough," Hrahragh interjected with a grin. Catching Grushak's nod, he sheathed his dagger and rose. "My turn?" he asked, though he was already heading for the copse.

"Thought you'd been quiet long enough," Grushak smirked.

* * *

"Oh, I'm so glad he picked you," Shannon purred, a gentle smile on her face. "What's your name?"

"Hrahragh," he growled in a low voice, stepping close. He made no move to touch her; he simply gazed down at her with hooded eyes and a faint smile.

"You remind me so much of Pughmuz," she said, tilting her head from side to side as she drank in his half-naked form. His chainmail half-shirt left his hard belly exposed, and he only wore a small loincloth below.

"How so?"

"Dressed like you want it," she grinned. She reached out and lightly stroked his bare hips. "Let me show you a little something Pughmuz and I used to do." She slowly removed his loincloth and let it fall from her fingers to the side. Pouting her lower lip, she gave him a little pleading look, darting her eyes between his and the chainmail. His smile broadened as he peeled the armor off and dropped it next to his loincloth. "Now you sit on the ground." Backing up, she took his hand and guided him down, urging him to cross his legs.

Standing astride Hrahragh's legs, she was almost ready to sit on his lap when his arms encircled her thighs and he leaned forward, arching his neck back to place his mouth between her legs. "Oh, you are a cunning linguist, Hrahragh," Shannon murmured, stroking his hair as his tongue swirled about her opening, tasting and exploring avidly.

"Mmmm," she moaned, letting her head fall back and closing her eyes. "Definitely remind me of Pughmuz."

As if by mutual agreement, he withdrew and she descended, taking him inside her and wrapping her legs around his waist. She was momentarily breathless. "Oh. That's nice," she commented appreciatively. Hrahragh only grinned.

No further words were spoken. Shannon's hands roamed his face and ears, caressing his many piercings, memorizing every line and scar. Hrahragh's hands and mouth traveled about her body as well, indulging curiosities he'd never had such an opportunity to explore. All the while, she slowly moved her hips back and forth, stroking him gently and quietly.

It was nothing like Hrahragh had ever experienced, this slow fuck with all the touching, but he found it quite relaxing and exhilarating at the same time. The expressions of pleasure on her face, the feel of her breasts rising and falling against his chest, her fingers and tongue tracing the rings and studs of his piercings, and that stroking rhythm as steady as a heartbeat on his cock. The entire world seemed enclosed in the small space of their bodies, and he couldn't think of a single place he'd rather be, or anything he'd rather do.

* * *

Mushog could think of _many_ things he'd like to be doing. Chewing a strip of dried meat, he glowered at the copse. They'd been in there for at least an hour, if he was any judge. Pryszrim had a peek and said she was sitting on Hrahragh's lap, fucking him _real_ _slow._ What the fuck was _that_ about? How could _anyone_ fuck for an _hour_?

"Save your energy, friend," Rukshash advised. "If she's got any left after everyone else, I'm thinking you'll need it."

"Take it anyway," Mushog grumbled. Grushak snorted.

"Wouldn't advise it," he said. "Come here, old son. Have a drink."

Muttering under his breath, Mushog slumped over by Grushak and sat down. He accepted the skin passed to him and took a long pull. "I'll have her," he vowed. "Soon as she's done with Hrahragh. I'm next."

Grushak chuckled. "Not if he picks someone else, you won't."

"Hey," Mushog snapped, "_I_ brought her, remember. I oughta have the right..."

"Where'd you get her, by the way?" Grushak interrupted.

With a sigh, Mushog launched into the story of the _tark_ running up on them with wolves at her heels. With an enthralled audience, he found himself getting rather excited in the retelling.

"She fucking _sucked me off_... _in a tree_!" he crowed. It stroked his injured pride that everyone was impressed with that accomplishment, even if it was more a testament to the _tark's_ profound lust than anything to do with Mushog. "And _then_ she had me on the _ground_," he went on, and Rukshash barked a laugh.

"She had _you_, all right," the old Orc sniggered.

"Yeah, she got the drop on me and kicked me in the face," Mushog muttered.

"_Really_?" Grushak laughed. "Whatever would she do _that_ for?"

Huffing with annoyance, Mushog snapped, "She wanted to ride me and... probably... didn't think I'd... let her." His voice diminished into embarrassed mutterings.

Rukshash shook his head. "Boy, when a woman who knows how to fuck puts you on your back, you fuckin' stay there."

"Yeah, I know that _now_," Mushog snarled sarcastically.

Without the usual roaring announcement of completion, Hrahragh emerged unexpectedly from the copse, his chainmail and loincloth draped unconcernedly over his arm. His utterly spent cock still glistened in the waining daylight. Leni and Maevyn averted their shocked eyes.

The look of profound contentment, with a hint of smugness, on Hrahragh's face surprised everyone.

"Did you even _come_?" Mushog cried with exasperation.

"Ran out," Hrahragh replied with a shrug. Turning to smirk challengingly at Shrah'rar, he thumbed back to the copse. "You next." The small Orc's eyes popped wide open.

"Hey, what about me?" Mushog roared.

"She said not you," Hrahragh replied.

"What?" Mushog bellowed.

"I'll get you later!" Shannon hollered from the copse.

* * *

**Translation:**

_Ukh pugh-lab drûthu-ishiz, grat_! = Get your ass in the bushes, chief!


	4. The Campsite of Orkly Delights, Part 2

**The Campsite of Orkly Delights, Part 2**

Shrah'rar's eyes darted around in a panic. He looked beseechingly at Grymawk, who grudgingly shook his head.

"I don't have it in me to put it in her," he grumbled. "Much as I'd like to." He sighed ruefully and rubbed his sore thigh.

"How 'bout you, Rukshash? Eh?"

The old Orc chuckled. "Just enjoyin' the show. You lads have yer fun."

"I'll go!" Pryszrim cried, hopping from foot to foot. Shrah'rar didn't want to lose face in front of everyone, and fucking the _tark_ would likely gain him some respect and maybe lessen some of the more annoying jokes at his expense, but he was _not_ about to go after Pryszrim.

"Maybe after _me,_ you will," Shrah'rar growled and dragged himself to his feet. He headed for the copse with considerably less enthusiasm than any.

"Waste of time, that," Mushog bitched. "Oughta do _me_. At least _I'll_ like it from a _tark_."

"Oi, Shrah'rar," Grushak called, grinning. "Think furry thoughts."

Shrah'rar gave him a withering look and entered the copse.

She stood fully a foot taller than him, and he vaguely wondered how he was to go about things. He swallowed and slowly looked up at her face.

Tilting her head to the side and regarding him, Shannon said quietly, "So... what's your preference?"

Narrowing his eyes, the Orc growled, "What, they didn't tell you?"

Her eyebrows arched. "No. Are _you_ going to?" He looked away without answering. She leaned down, trying to catch his eye again. "Rather have an Orc?"

Shrah'rar lifted one shoulder in a sort of shrug. "Ssssomewhat," he hissed slowly, noncommittally.

Sighing, Shannon sat on a log and patted it. "Come here and have a seat."

The Orc sat gingerly next to her and she put her arm around his shoulders. He glanced to his right and swallowed; he was inches away from her left tit, and it had a lividly bruised bite mark that was still seeping a few drops of blood. The scent of his fellows all over her, what must be her own musk perfuming the air, and _tark_ blood wafting past his nose like a teasing promise... Even _Shrah'rar's_ little Orc poked its head up looking for sustenance.

Yet for all the fucking she'd taken from them, he saw no evidence of it. Not even a trickle down the leg. Furrowing his brow, he looked up at her. "So where _is_ all of it?"

"All of what?" she asked mildly, a slight smile softening her features.

"All the come," he said. "Should be covered in it, right?"

Her grin broadened. "Little secret," she whispered. "A lady always cleans up between. Lets him think he's the only one she's had." Feeling his tensions release a bit, she asked, "What's your pleasure?"

He looked away again and muttered, "Take your ass."

Nodding, she replied, "All right. Thanks for the warning. I don't like to be surprised."

Arching his brow, he asked, "You take it in the ass before?"

She smiled indulgently. "Uh... _yeah_. I fuck _Orcs_. If you think that's virgin territory, dear, you are sadly mistaken." She squeezed his shoulders as he chuckled almost shyly. "Hey, you're not like Toulouse Lautrec, are you? You're not gonna make me regret this?"

"Who?"

"Never mind. Let's see you." She nodded toward his lap. With some awkwardness, Shrah'rar unlaced his breeches and showed her his stiffening cock. "Not bad. You'll do nicely, I think. You get that guy ready, and I'll be waiting." Moving to all fours on the ground, she looked back and advised, "Use a lot of spit, will you?"

Startled, Shrah'rar blinked in confusion. "Uh... on my cock?"

Grinning at his naiveté, Shannon said, "_Yes_. I don't exactly want to be torn up, so you'd better slick the track a bit."

Nodding, he applied some natural lubricant as he knelt behind her, taking in her pale-skinned backside hungrily. By the scars on her hips, it definitely didn't look like he was the first one to greet her back there. Drawing a deep breath, he took the plunge.

* * *

"Anything happenin'?" Mushog asked, not expecting an affirmative answer. Grushak snickered beside him.

Pryszrim dutifully peeked through the bushes and reported, "He's up her ass."

"_WHAT_?!" Mushog screamed, his voice strangled and high-pitched. He started to leap to his feet, but Grushak grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back down roughly. Mushog gasped for air, nearly going into shock. It was bad enough having to wait interminably, but to have a part of her _he_ hadn't explored delved before he could get to it was the worst insult imaginable.

"She's likin' it," Pryszrim continued gleefully. "Rubbin' her quim, too. Ooo, they're gettin' faster at it."

The relative quiet of the copse suddenly erupted with Shrah'rar's release. He actually sounded suprised.

"Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah! Uuunnghh... uuuuuuuuhhhhhh."

"Good for him," Rukshash nodded with approval. "I'd say he needed that."

In a rare moment of able calculation, because he forgot Shrah'rar had already pointed it out, Pryszrim counted heads and came to the conclusion that when Shrah'rar came out, it would be his turn. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he watched the copse eagerly.

Shrah'rar stumbled out of the bushes in a daze, a far away look on his face.

"Is it my turn?" Pryszrim begged, running up to the Orc. Shrah'rar started, as if he hadn't expected to be directly addressed.

"Yeah," he replied, waving vaguely.

Pryszrim nearly squealed as he bolted into the bushes. Shrah'rar collapsed next to Grymawk and stared past the fire. Mushog scowled resentfully at him.

"Make yuh swear off goats, doesn't it?" Grushak suggested casually.

"Yeah," Shrah'rar mumbled. Holding his hands up in front of him as though he were cupping something round, he murmured, "So... _tight_. Like... fuck. Then she came and... _squeeeeezed_..."

"Shut. The fuck. UP," Mushog growled.

Chuckling, Grushak tossed his skin to Shrah'rar, who made no effort to catch it, nor seemed to know it was thrown. The skin landed in his lap and lay there unnoticed for several moments.

"So... fucking... _tight_," the Orc murmured in wonder.

"_FUCK_!"

Oddly enough, it hadn't come from Mushog. Everyone in the camp jumped a foot and their heads swivelled to the copse where the shout came from.

"Get the hell away from me!" Shannon's furious voice cried.

The Orcs around the campfire exchanged confused looks.

"But it's my _turn_!" Pryszrim's whimpering voice replied.

"I don't give a shit!" Shannon snapped. "You've got _bugs_ crawling all over you! Get your skanky ass out of here!"

"But... but...," stammered Pryszrim. The bushes shook wildly as the little Orc went flying backwards out of the copse, staggered off-balance for several steps, then fell flat on his back. His unimpressively-sized cock still stood at attention out of his open breeches front.

"Gal's gotta have standards," Rukshash observed with a toothy grin. A few snickered, but mostly the other Orcs nodded, conceding the point.

Shannon's head popped up over the bushes. "That it?"

"Yeah, we're done in," Bragdagash called. "Have a break."

"Wait a fuckin' second," Mushog snarled. "It's _my_ turn!"

The _tark's_ head disappeared for a second as she pulled her breeches up, then came back into view. "Not if you want a good quality fuck."

Mushog hesitated, then darted a look at Grushak. The big Orc shrugged and grinned. "_I'm_ willing to wait. She bit my cock; I think I'm in love."

"_Fuck_," Mushog hissed.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Shannon said. "You better wait til I can recharge the batteries." Pulling her shirt on, she grabbed her belt, pack, and boots and left her bower to join the group by the fire.

Dropping her things between Mushog and Rukshash, she sat herself down. Leaning back against her pack, she met Rukshash's bemused gaze and smiled.

"Hey there, old timer," she said mildly. "Too good for me?"

Rukshash chuckled. "Had my share, girl. Maybe we'll talk later."

Shannon nodded. "I'll bet you could teach me a thing or two. Sure. Later. We'll have ourselves a nice... chat."

Nearly at the end of his tether, Mushog growled, "Can you talk to _me_ before you talk to _him_?"

Slowly turning her head, she gave the Uruk a withering look. "You've got a lot to learn, boy-o."

Furious, Mushog grabbed her arm and started to pivot toward her, intent on pinning her down. He didn't get far. As his other arm came around, she grabbed his wrist and jerked it up and back at the elbow hard enough to elicit an audible _pop_ from the joint.

"You'll... _wait_," Shannon hissed, baring her teeth menacingly. "Don't _make_ me fuck up your dick so it never works again."

The iron grip she had on his wrist didn't budge, and Mushog was at a bad angle to free himself without letting go of her arm first. And it was actually starting to hurt. Grinding his jaw, he growled, "I've fucking _waited_ long _enough_."

"You'll fucking _wait_ even _longer_, you keep being a pouty little bitch," she snarled, and snapped his elbow back a couple inches more. "Give it up, Mushog. I'll do you. I'll do you so god damn hard you won't know what hit you. But I'm not doing you _tonight_."

"I _want_ it tonight," he growled obstinately, though his forehead was starting to pinch, betraying how much pain he was in.

Leaning forward, she pressed her cheek to his and whispered in his ear, "All I had to give your mates will be _yours_ tomorrow, Mushog. All yours. All for _you_." She flicked her tongue across his earlobe. "Just you."

"All right," he allowed, swallowing thickly. He slowly let go of her arm, and she slowly released the tension on his elbow. He eased himself back to sit next to her, taking deep breaths and trying to flex his sore elbow without being too obvious about it.

Unfortunately, everyone in the camp had watched the entire exchange avidly. Bragdagash shook his head.

"Fuck it up for the rest of us, Mushog, and I'll have your head on a pike," the leader growled. Pointing at Shannon, he added, "You brought a _tark_ into camp with a knife on her. You know better than that." Mushog blinked, startled.

Amused, the woman chuckled. "Oh really, now. He was too worried about his _own_ weapon to think a thing about what _I_ might be carrying."

"Fair enough," Bragdagash conceded. "He doesn't think worth a shit when his dick's hard."

"Which is all the time," Kurbag sneered. Nazluk shot the half-Uruk a look, thinking he had a lot of cheek making a statement like that.

"Hey!" Mushog said indignantly. "How was _I_ supposed to know what shit she had in her pack?"

Laughing and shaking her head, Shannon reached behind her and grabbed her belt. A sheathed, black-handled knife hung from it. She drew the blade and held it up in front of his stunned face. "I was _wearing_ it, douchebag. Next time, when you're staring at my ass, pay attention to what's dangling _next_ to it."

The knife wasn't a short throwing dagger, either. It was a dirk, fully the length of her forearm, and not something one could easily conceal on their person.

Smirking, she sheathed the dirk and tossed it back with her boots. "All right, guys. I think I've earned my supper. Whatcha got?"

"Oi! Squeaker! Get busy with the grub," Bragdagash barked, and the Elf girl rose to obey. Shannon's eyes slid in her direction and appraised her coolly. Leni didn't meet her gaze. The _tark's_ eyes narrowed.

"Don't like Elves?" Mushog asked casually.

"Had my tangles with'em," she replied. Darting a look over to the little girl, she saw an interesting combination of expressions. The girl looked, at the same time, resentful, disgusted and grudgingly impressed. The two locked gazes like circling predators for several moments. Shannon retained a hard, unblinking stare that the little _tark_ girl couldn't outlast, and she looked away, her eyes watering. Smirking, the woman turned her attention back to Mushog. "Tough one," she commented approvingly.

"Yeah, whatever," Mushog said dismissively. "What sort of tangles?"

Shannon grinned. "My shieldbrothers rather liked hunting _golug-hai_. They _kindly_ avoided _tarks_ for my sake, bless them. But Elves? Fuck'em."

Grushak snorted a laugh. "Did you?"

She gave him a slow smile. "A fair few. They weren't all that happy with my... style."

"Oh?" the Orc leered. "So, uh... what did you do?"

"Gave them a reason to hate themselves in the morning," she replied with a lewd grin. Now she had the attention of all the Orcs, and Mushog was starting to feel crowded. He elbowed Grushak out of his personal space with a growl. Shannon chuckled at their eager faces. "Two things, guys: Elves don't want to like to fuck, and they will damn near kill themselves to _avoid_ fucking. So... half your job's done when you make them scream like a bitch and beg on their knees."

"That's... an interesting way of killing Elves," Bragdagash commented.

"Works like a charm, every time," the _tark_ smirked. "Only good Elf's a dead one, you ask me." She purposely didn't look directly at the Elf girl, but there was no doubt Shannon was well aware she was being watched with hunted eyes.

Noting a fellow Elf-hater, even if she was a complete bitch, Nazluk said, "If only _more_ felt the same." His gaze slid over to Kurbag.

Giving the Orc a withering look, Kurbag snapped, "Why don't you come over here and suck my dick, Nazluk?"

"No, suck _mine_, since I didn't get a turn," Mushog interrupted before Nazluk could muster a properly scathing response.

Shannon chuckled and patted Mushog's thigh. "You poor, poor bastard. Shannon'll fix you up after dinner. Wouldn't want those blue balls of yours blowing up all over the camp."

"You serious?" the Uruk said eagerly.

"Yeah," she nodded with a smirk. "I'll give you a hand."

"Rather have a mouth," he growled.

"Gonna get what you get, boy-o," she replied, arching her brow. Jerking her thumb in the general direction of the rest, she sighed, "Your buddies put me in a nice, quiet place. I need a nap. I can yank your dick in my sleep. Probably the only way I _will_ get any sleep."

He started to say something and stopped, frowning.

"It'll be good," she whispered, "trust me." Then she leaned over and nipped his ear. A slight smile curved his mouth.

Dinner consisted of the remains of a sheep harvested from a recent raid. Shannon carved off a smaller portion than the Orcs, but still healthier than anything Leni or Maevyn received, and sat between Mushog and Rukshash chewing away at the nearly raw meat, completely at her ease.

"Gonna share that?" she asked Grushak as he took a pull from his skin. He grinned and handed it over.

Taking a sip, she made a face. "Eugh. That's awful shit. Which one of you brewed this swill?"

"Hey, that was one of my best!" Mushog snarled defensively.

Tossing the skin back to Grushak, Shannon reached for her pack. "Kid, you don't know what's good til you've had some of this." She dug around the pack for a bit and produced a shining steel hip flask. Handing it to Mushog, she smirked. "That'll put hair on your toes."

Grunting in disbelief, the Uruk unscrewed the cap and took a big gulp. The moment the alcohol hit his throat, he froze, eyes bulging. Not only did it burn all the way down, it scorched all the way _up_. His eyes began to water and he thought his stomach was on fire. He couldn't finish swallowing for several seconds. He lost partial hearing for five minutes and developed a twitch around his left eye for a full minute.

Everyone was staring wide-eyed at Mushog, wondering what the hell she gave him. Shannon smirked and retrieved the flask from his stiff, unmoving hand. Shaking her head, she took a demure sip.

"You know, gulping down homemade corn whiskey out of a pot still cobbled together with random odds and ends is a sure way to fuck your ass up," she commented. "You wanna take it slow your first time."

"Can I have a bit of that?" Grushak asked, and she obligingly handed it over. The flask made its way around the whole group, eliciting similar grimaces and head shakes from everyone. Then it went around again.

Retreating to their furs, the two girls watched the laughing figures in the firelight as night drew in.

"What's _wrong_ with her?" Maevyn whispered. Leni shook her head slowly.

"I do not know," the Elf replied. "I do not see... the usual sort of madness in her eyes. I just do not know."

"I'll bet she can leave whenever she wants," Maevyn grumbled jealously.

"I do not know _that_ either," Leni said. The woman made her very uncomfortable; the last remark about Elves frightened her nearly as much as any of the things Nazluk had said to her.

Before long, Nazluk headed out for watch duty and everyone began bedding down for the night around the fire.

"Which one's yours?" Shannon asked, pointing at the pallets. Mushog smirked.

"That one."

"Good enough," she nodded, and took her own pallet out of her pack. Spreading it out on the ground next to his, she sat down and patted the other bedroll. Leering, and trying not to look _too_ eager, Mushog sauntered over a little more quickly than his usual and sat down. In seconds, he was on his back with Shannon spread all over him.

Her hands were everywhere at once, and her teeth grazed and nipped his neck and throat in a slightly threatening yet exhilarating dance. One hand swiftly untied his laces and slipped into his breeches, wrapping around his ever-tumescent cock and squeezing it. A shuddering wave went through him, and he dissolved into the pallet. Groaning, he began to quiver and his breath quickened. Removing her hand, she took a moment to spit generously into her palm, then reached back in to stroke him roughly. Her other hand dragged down the neck of his tunic, exposing his upper chest, and she planted many bites and nips there as well.

Mushog lay there in a fuck fog, unable to move anything as the sensory overload washed over him. Even if he _had _remembered Rukshash's advice about letting her have at him, he wouldn't have been capable of asserting himself. One leg, quite of its own accord, began smasmodically kicking at the ground like a dog getting a really good scratch. His hands were still poised in the air, interrupted in mid-grab and disconnected now from the core processor. To further sink him into oblivion, Shannon bit his flesh at the collarbone, sawing her teeth into his hide. He hissed and grimaced. Her fist pumped his cock so fast and hard he had nowhere to go but _off_.

Again, his toes curled in his boots. Gasping as much from the orgasm as the erotic shock of being bitten, he blinked at her as she sat up, her blood-flecked lips curved in a lazy smile.

"_Ukh dhûlat, ashmaath-izub_," she purred, and lay next to him with her head on his shoulder and her hand over his heart. He could only embrace her with one arm; the other was too weak to move.

Turning his head, Mushog met Grushak's gaze. The Orc was idly stroking his own dick, clearly having seen everything. Narrowing his eyes, Mushog looked around and saw that there was a general wanking going on, but none seemed inclined to interrupt Shannon's rest. He wondered if he'd actually get that focused fucking she promised, or if the others would demand another round at first light.

He didn't mind sharing, he told himself. As long as he could have her whenever _he_ wanted. That waiting shit wasn't any fun at all. And now he was wondering if he even wanted to share at all, if it meant _waiting_.

* * *

**Translation:**

_Ukh dhûlat, ashmaath-izub_ = Go to sleep, my sweet one.


	5. The Taming of the 'Shog

**The Taming of the 'Shog**

Mushog's jaw stretched with a huge yawn and he idly scratched his chest. His eyes slowly fluttered open on a grey dawn. Turning his head, he saw Nazluk poking at the fire with a scowl on his face, Squeaker stumbling about awkwardly under the grumbling voices of Hrahragh and Grymawk as she prepared breakfast, and the Brat delivering a chunk of raw meat to Rukshash. By Squeaker's gait, he guessed Kurbag had an unusually lengthy go at her last night. Understandable, given Shannon's rejection of him. Mushog smirked, then frowned. He looked quickly at the empty pallet beside him.

"Oi!" he barked, sitting up. "Where the fuck is Shannon?"

"Early bird gets the worm," Rukshash replied absently, gesturing toward the copse.

Mushog leapt to his feet and strode furiously across the campsite. This was absolutely fucking ridiculous. The sun wasn't even up! _He_ wasn't even up! Okay, his dick was up, but the rest of him hadn't quite come alive yet.

By the time he got to the bushes skirting the copse, he could hear the low moaning and groaning, and swept the foliage aside. His jaw fell open.

Shannon was on all fours, Bragdagash sitting in front of her with his legs spread as she sucked him off, and Grushak kneeling behind giving her a proper fucking. Even as he watched, stricken, the latter dug his claws into the meat of her thighs, drawing blood. She wiggled her bottom appreciatively.

"What the fuck?" Mushog squeaked, then cleared his throat. "I thought you were doing _me_!"

"Doesn't look like it... to _me_," Grushak grunted, sinking deep and holding for a moment as the _tark_ obligingly squeezed him. He closed his eyes and groaned, a satisfied grin on his face, then resumed his vigorous thrusting.

"Get... the fuck... out of here," Bragdagash gasped. He was in no mood for the delicious play of her tongue on his cock to be slowed or interrupted by a cuckolded Uruk.

"But... come _on_!" Mushog protested, panting with frustration. To add to the insult, she didn't seem to mind Bragdagash's hand on her head, though she'd socked him a good one for the same.

"Bugger off," Grushak hissed, speeding up as his peak approached. The increasingly loud growling moans of the Orc at her back door worked Bragdagash up to his own crescendo, so that the two of them exploded in tandem at both ends of the _tark_.

Finishing the spent leader off, Shannon got up, licking her lips. She grinned at Mushog. "Ah. That's _my_ breakfast done. You ready?"

Baring his teeth and clenching his fists in fury, Mushog only got two steps into the copse before Grushak shot a hand out and hit him in the chest.

"Relax," he growled.

"She _promised_ me," Mushog snarled.

"And you'll get yours," Grushak replied. "Now calm the fuck down or it won't be near as good."

Bragdagash stood on slightly trembling legs. "Ain't like she's yours, _pushdug_," he grunted.

"Gentlemen, please," Shannon said breathily and not a little mockingly. "Let's not quibble over quim, hmmm? So ungallant." Turning to Bragdagash, she indulged a last stroke of his cock before he tucked it away in his breeches. He chuckled low in his throat. "Wish my alarm clock back home had as good a bedside manner," she murmured. She swatted his bum on his way out of the copse.

To Grushak, she grinned, baring her teeth, and snapped at the air. "I usually prefer Uruk-hai, Master Grushak, but you've got a cock no decent woman can resist."

"Anytime you want it," he growled deeply, stepping close and brushing her hip with his still-erect member, "you just say the word."

"The word being...?" she teased.

"Fuck me," he whispered.

"That's two," she murmured. "But they're small, so that's okay."

He grinned and turned to leave. Shooting Mushog a warning look, he snapped, "Don't fuck it up." Then he left.

Shannon folded her arms over her bare breasts and regarded Mushog with annoyance, shaking her head. "Like a spoiled little cunt, you are," she hissed. "I'm going to have to teach you some manners, I think."

"As long as you _fuck me_," he snarled. "And _not_ half the fucking camp before I have a go!"

"So not only are you a mollycoddled brat, your math skills are substandard," she commented, leaning over to grab her pack. "Whatever do they teach in Orc schools, me wonders?" Shaking her head, she beckoned him to follow. "Come hither, _mon petit imb__é__cile_; Shannon's got some fun things you won't want anyone seeing her do to you."

Intrigued in spite of his lingering anger, Mushog trailed after her deeper into the forest. Four thin lines of blood ran down her naked legs on either side from the punctures inflicted by Grushak's claws; the sight and smell of _tark_ blood were intoxicating alone, even without the scents of sex and come wafting in her wake.

"How far are we goin'?" he finally asked when he'd watched her pale ass for what he considered long enough without leaping onto it.

"A little further," she replied calmly over her shoulder. "It'll be worth it, trust me."

Mushog had to remind himself_ repeatedly_ that she could do things willingly he'd never get from her by force. He bit his lip.

Finally, they reached a clearing, and she stopped to survey the area. A couple of large old trees had fallen here, one propped against the other leaving a gentle slant. Shannon nodded with satisfaction.

"This'll do," she said, and dropped her pack. Turning to him, she smiled and beckoned him closer. A feral growl came from him, and he leered as he approached. She stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Hold still," she whispered. Then she ran her hand down his left leg.

Before he knew what was happening, she had his left ankle in the crook of her left arm, hugged tight against her body, and hauled it up as she straightened. Taken completely by surprise, he nearly toppled over. His flailing hand made a grab for her arm, but she twisted away easily and surged forward. He only managed to hop on one foot backwards a couple of times before she overbalanced him and he went down heavily. His head hit something hard on the ground with a solid _thunk _and darkness took him.

* * *

Gradually, awareness returned to Mushog, and with it a strange sense of being out of his own body. At least, that's what it seemed like. He couldn't seem to move more than a little bit. His arms and legs were fixed, splayed out and down where he couldn't even see them. He tried to pull himself free, but there was no give to the bindings that held him down.

Now he realized where he was. Still in the clearing, but he was strapped down to the leaning tree. All his clothes were gone. He darted his eyes around in a panic. He could move his head, but that was all.

At first he thought he was alone, but eventually his eyes found Shannon leaning against a tree, watching him. She hadn't dressed, so maybe... He shook his head. He didn't like this. He couldn't grab her, couldn't fuck her, couldn't do _anything_. His heart began to pound in fear; what the fuck was she gonna do to him?

"Hello, my cock," she purred gently, detaching herself from the tree and sauntering lazily toward him. "You wanted my full attention. I'd say you have it." Her eyes roamed his body hungrily; her tongue flicked over her lips.

"Whuh... what're you gonna do?" he gasped, beginning to tremble. He made another attempt to pull against the bindings to no avail.

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," she said absently as she trailed her fingertips up his thigh. "A few things Pûlpizg and I used to do for fun." Her touch sent quivering waves across his skin and stiffened his cock. "Always so eager," she murmured, lightly fondling his balls.

"Untie me," he growled. "This ain't funny."

"No?" she asked, arching her brow. "Hmmm... I expect you _aren't_ laughing, are you? Oh dear." She gave him a mockingly sympathetic look. "I suppose I shall have to fuck you... _up_." A predatory gleam came to her eyes and she bared her teeth in a most un-_tark-_like leer.

Turning abruptly, she strode to her discarded pack, now considerably emptier-looking. Whatever she bound him with, it must have taken up some room in the bag. She dug around until she found what she was looking for, then came back.

"Whassat?" he blurted, eyes wide.

"This?" she asked, holding up one of the black objects. "You surely know a whip like this. It's most commonly called a cat o' nine tails. Mine is a little... kinder than most. No barbs, you see."

"No... I mean, yeah, I seen one," he fumbled desperately. "The other thing. What the fuck is _that_?"

"Oh, I'm sure you _haven't_ seen anything like this," she replied, holding it up so he wouldn't miss all the contours and textures. "That is, I'm sure you _have, _just not quite... like... this."

He swallowed hard, feeling the beginnings of panic stealing over him. "Is it... real?" he whispered, his voice full of naked dread.

She laughed. Somehow her laugh, though friendly-sounding, ratcheted up his nervous tension. He was not calmed when she shook her head. "No. It's not real. It's made of... well, you probably don't know latex, do you. Suffice to say, it's a fake." She suddenly smacked the thing against the tree trunk with a loud _thunk_. Mushog almost fainted. "Looks _terribly_ real, though, doesn't it?" she breathed, gazing admiringly at it. "I particularly like the added touch of balls, don't you? Oh, and look at this." She twisted a knob at the base underneath the balls and a buzzing sound started up. "Ah, batteries are still good," she grinned.

"What's it for?" he asked, curious in spite of himself.

She gave him a withering look. "What the fuck do you _think_ it's for?" She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Now, I think what I'd like is a bit of a fuck off your cock for starters. Grushak's got a dick and a half on him, but doggy style doesn't always work for me. So," she said with a sigh, "time to climb Mount Mushog and see what all his fuss is about." Turning off the buzzing cock, she set her things aside and crawled up on the log.

Maybe if he hadn't been so completely powerless, Mushog would have enjoyed this as much as his dick seemed to, but it was unnerving and humiliating. She rode him hard, using him as she likely used that cock-looking thing. He might as well not have been there. She dragged an orgasm out of him easily. _Too_ easily.

"You need some serious work," she tsked, shaking her head as she got off him. "Let's see how much it takes to make you outlast me, okay hotshot?" She bent over, presenting her ass to his rapidly blinking eyes, and rose holding the whip. "Failing to please me is _not_ rewarded," she growled coldly. The claws of the cat whistled through the air and struck his thigh sharply. He flinched more from surprise than pain. "Please me, and you will get... presents," Shannon grinned.

"I ain't a fucking _pet_!" he roared in sudden fury, trying to squirm himself free. All it did was drive splinters from the tree into his ass. "We ain't that far away from camp. I could..."

"Do what?" she interrupted innocently, running the whip tails through her hand over and over again. A slight smile curved her mouth. "Call your friends over here? Let them see you like this? Wondering how in the world a little thing like me could _possibly_ have nailed your ass to a tree?"

"You... you _nailed_ me...?" he sputtered. Shannon threw her head back.

"Oh god, has _no one_ heard of sarcasm around here?" she begged the heavens. Shaking her head, she said, "You're only tied down, dumbass. Although... if you _want_ me to drive some nails through you..."

"No!" he barked. "No. This is okay."

She nodded approvingly. "So brave in the face of adversity. Come along, now. We must work on your stamina. You've become all sorts of lazy since the war. All you have to do is make me come. _That's all_. If it takes you all... fucking... day. Understand me?" She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"Can't do _anything_ tied down," he growled, hoping she'd see that freeing him was _necessary_ for him to accomplish the goal.

"Oh, you'll do plenty. Keep it hard, keep it up. Don't come till I tell you to. And we'll start with a little exercise in self-control, shall we?" Smiling, she retrieved the cock. "Now, I trust you've had _numerous_ things up your ass, wanton little fucker that you are. Perhaps nothing _this_ big... unless it was Grushak?" she questioned. Seeing his shocked comprehension of her plans, she smiled. "I suppose not. Taking his cock might be a little... awkward. Not to mention painful."

"Hurt you, did he?" Mushog asked, finding some grim pleasure stashed away for special occasions.

"Dear boy, when I take the cock, I take it the way I _want_ to take it," she replied coolly, going back to her pack. She pulled out a strange-looking thing that looked like a thin white tube with a cap at one end. She opened it and squeezed a clear substance down the length of the cock. Capping the tube, she tossed it back in her pack. As she returned to his side, she ran her hand up and down the cock in a mockingly erotic manner, smearing the stuff all over it.

"Now," she said softly, sitting astride the log between his legs, "let's see what you're made of."

"I... I don't...," he protested weakly even as the cock began to slide in.

"Don't resist," she purred. "It'll only hurt worse. As you well know, my little ass-rapist."

His breath quickened rapidly with as much pain as pleasure. He couldn't hold his head up anymore and stared at the canopy above him. He just couldn't relax, nor could he utter a word. Something told him that his smart mouth would get that huge dick rammed home hard. As it was, having himself filled slowly was stirring a very uncomfortable mixture of arousal, humiliation, pleasure, and pain. Worse, perhaps, was submitting to her. It was not a position he'd ever been in with anyone, least of all a female, certainly never a _tark_.

He was taken by surprise when she wrapped her lips around his dick and began to suck leisurely, slowly sliding the cock back and forth inside him.

Groaning long and low, his tensions began to slip. Evidently, he was showing signs of enjoying it _too_ much, because she grazed his dick with her teeth as a warning and jerked the cock in his ass sharply. He grunted painfully. There were too many conflicting thoughts in his head; it hurt but it felt really good, he was embarrassed but wanted _more_, he hoped no one _ever knew_ this happened but he wanted it again and again...

She worked him with cock and tongue for what seemed hours, punishing his too-rapid approach to completion and rewarding the slower build-up. He feared and lusted for her at the same time. Eventually, she granted him the privilege of coming, and he never thought he'd stop. It was like a dam that held back an ocean of semen had been breeched and he came hard for several minutes. His entire body went slack and the little of him that could move slumped against the log. She eased the cock out and he felt somehow unpleasantly empty.

"Very nice," she said gently, and he felt the trickle of water past his lips. Greedily lapping at the skin, he opened his eyes and met hers. She had a soft smile on her face. "Gather your strength. We'll try it again when you're back online."

He felt inexplicably pleased by her praise, and gasped for breath.

She didn't leave him to come naturally to full stiffness, but teased with her hands, caressing and stroking not only his cock but his thighs, hips, and belly. It didn't take very long for him to harden again.

"Are you ready?" she whispered. He nodded wordlessly.

Smiling, Shannon climbed back up. "Hold it back, Mushog. Keep it going." She eased down on his cock and his mouth fell open with a moan. "That's it," she purred as she rocked her hips. "I'm not in a hurry. That should inform you of how long I'm going to expect you to hold it."

Swallowing hard, he tried to think of something else, but unfortunately his thoughts were usually of a rutting variety. That would not help him here, but it was too late to look for something else, and his peak came even more quickly than the first time.

The _tark_ sighed deeply as she once again dismounted and fetched her whip. Shaking her head, she silently flogged his chest.

"I couldn't fucking _help_ it!" he snarled, flinching with each strike. He'd only ever been whipped across his back; this was... different. Not really terribly painful, just... humiliating.

"You'll 'help it,' by the time I'm through with you," she replied. "Get that fuck pole back up, Mushog. I've been nice so far; my patience is reaching its end."

He darted a look at her face and gulped. Those dark eyes of hers seemed to have darkened even more, like the coldest, darkest place in the world. They promised things he really didn't want to know the names of right now.

"Keep lookin' at me like that," he growled, attempting defiance, "and _nothing's_ getting up."

Quite suddenly, her face smoothed. The cold gleam was replaced with friendly warmth. He was even _more_ unnerved. "You wanted a fuck," she said softly. "I. Never. Give. _Anything_. Away."


	6. Stirring Up Some Farewell Shit

**Stirring Up Some Farewell Shit**

"What I would like to know is, what happened to the village we were supposed to raid, hmmm?" Nazluk mused casually.

Grushak and Bragdagash looked at one another. The leader's eyes widened a bit. What with all the... goings on, he'd forgotten completely about the reason Mushog and Kurbag were gone in the first place. All eyes now turned to Kurbag.

"Hey, don't look at _me_," Kurbag protested. "She told us the village was already done by another band, and it was crawling with _tark_ soldiers."

"And you believed her without checking it out yourself?" Nazluk asked. "If you were Mushog, I would say twat clouded your brain, but since she wouldn't have you..."

"Leave it, Nazluk," Bragdagash warned. "We can always go back and check. If she didn't lie, the _tarks'll_ be gone by now. If she did, we get a good bit of spoils."

"And what of _her_, if she lied?"

No one seemed anxious to come up with a _what if_ scenario at the moment.

"I've seen a lot in my time," Rukshash noted as he fished around in one nostril unconcernedly. "Can smell a lying _tark_ a mile away. That one didn't stink like a liar."

Before Nazluk could press the issue, the bushes at the copse parted and Mushog emerged looking disheveled and dazed. He just stood there with his mouth slightly open, his breath coming in short, sharp huffs. Even from across the camp, it was clear he was trembling all over.

It was the haunted look in his eyes that silenced any good-natured ribbing about the three hours he'd spend in Shannon's company. Very slowly, he got himself moving again, eventually coming around to find a perch on one of the logs. He sat gingerly, grunting slightly and wincing as he eased himself down.

Bragdagash frowned deeply, staring at the Uruk. "What the fuck happened to you?" he hissed.

Mushog couldn't even look his leader in the face, and kept staring at the campfire.

Glancing around, Grushak said, "Where's the _tark_?"

Gesturing vaguely in no specific direction, Mushog muttered, "She went hunting."

Nazluk smirked at Bragdagash's shocked expression. The leader barked, "You let her _go_?"

"I couldn't stop her," the stricken Uruk mumbled.

"Fuck, Mushog, could you have at least gone after her?" Bragdagash snarled. He exchanged a furious look with Grushak. Both were thinking the same thing.

"I... I... couldn't move," Mushog whimpered, and every head turned sharply toward him. That pathetic, weak, unsteady voice surely did _not_ just come out of Mushog. "I couldn't move." His voice died to a whisper and he shook his head slowly. "I couldn't move."

Unnerved in ways none of them could possibly have imagined, they couldn't even formulate a response for several heartbeats. Grushak furrowed his brow and forced himself to ask, "When did she leave?"

Mushog blinked and seemed to come back into focus. Meeting Grushak's eyes, he said, "I don't know. An hour. Two. A day. A week. I don't fucking _know_."

"What've you been doing the last hour or... whatever?" Kurbag asked. He had to force himself to approach; he'd never seen his mate like this. It was disturbing as hell; his instincts told him to get the fuck away.

"Nothin'," Mushog mumbled. "Just... tryin' to walk again."

"What'd she do to you?" Shrah'rar asked in an awed whisper. Mushog didn't answer. He didn't look like he even heard the question.

Across the camp, Leni and Maevyn sat huddled together. Ever since the woman made her comment about Elves, Leni had been wary. Now she was seeing one of the more thoroughly vile of the Orcs completely done for. While the Elf girl had plenty of reasons to feel satisfaction for his apparent comeuppance, and Maevyn too harbored vengeful thoughts with regards to Mushog in particular, it was terrifying to imagine what the woman might have done to put him in his present condition, and then just _walk away_.

She was out there somewhere, and Leni feared being caught alone if, or when, she returned.

As the Orcs stared at Mushog and exchanged worried glances among themselves, a distant crack like an ice floe breaking on a winterbound lake echoed from some distance away. The Orcs' ears pricked; it was _summer_.

"What the fuck was that?" Rukshash hissed. Nobody had an answer.

"Oi, Mushog," Kurbag urged, squatting in front of the Uruk. "What happened out there, eh?"

Mushog slowly raised his head and met his friend's eyes, but he didn't say anything. Kurbag retreated from what he saw there.

"Let him be," Bragdagash decided. He didn't like what he was seeing, but if Mushog wasn't going to tell them anything – not even give them a go ahead one way or another about Shannon – what could they do? If she came back, then they'd see what happened. But for now...

It was another hour before the _tark_ returned, a young buck slung over her shoulders. Her back was bowed by the weight of the animal, yet her stride was unhindered. She brought it to the campfire and dumped it.

Arching her back and rolling her shoulders and neck, she let out a huff of air. "Carried that fucker for a mile. You boys wanna dress it? I'm worn out."

"Haven't had good deer in awhile," Rukshash growled, brandishing his skinning knife with relish as he knelt beside the carcass. "Don't see a bow. What'd you kill it with?"

Smirking, Shannon replied, "Kindness."

Rukshash snorted with amusement. "You lads could learn a thing or two from a _tark_ who can bring down a deer without... a bow." He stared at the completely unmarked corpse. There was no sign that it had been struck with any weapon at all. The old Orc slowly turned to look at Shannon.

She smiled. "Look to the head. Speaking of which, where's the jakes?"

Grushak waved her in the appropriate direction, but only had eyes for Rukshash. The Orc had turned the deer's head and was staring at it in bafflement.

Kurbag watched Mushog when Shannon returned, and kept watching until the woman headed off to relieve herself. The Uruk's eyes locked on the _tark_ and followed her, but as far as Kurbag could tell, there was no malice or hate in Mushog's expression. If anything, he looked... afraid.

That would have been enough to get Kurbag nervous, imagining that someone like Mushog could be _afraid_ of a _tark_ woman. What confused the shit out of the half-Uruk was the sudden ratcheting up of Mushog's musk, as if a ripe twat jumped right in front of his face and his dick rose to meet it.

While that was more 'normal' for Mushog, the rest of it was decidedly _not._

"What's the matter, Rukshash?" Bragdagash finally asked when the old Orc hadn't said anything for several minutes.

"C'mere and look at this," Rukshash said evenly. "Tell me I ain't gone mad."

The leader hunkered down next to him and had a look. His face went slack. "What the fuck?"

Now all the Orcs crowded around, looking at the pristine, untouched head of the deer. Unmarked, that is, except for a small, thumb-sized hole behind the left eye from which a thin trickle of blood ran into the fur. The hole was perfectly round; no blade they knew of could make such a wound.

Rukshash looked at Bragdagash and said in a low voice, "I don't know what she did. I ain't never seen anything like this." The sheer weight of his statement – that someone who'd seen monkeys and mûmakil had never seen something like _this_ – silenced nearly all of them.

"What the fuck _did_ that?" Grushak hissed.

* * *

Shannon had no interest in the jakes and bypassed it completely. She'd noticed the absence of the Elf girl when she returned; getting the Elf alone was something she'd been counting on. Following her sense of smell, long ago honed to pick out Elves, she headed for a little stream not far from camp. She paused when she found the girl vigorously scrubbing her legs, cleaning off Kurbag's leavings of the night before. Shannon grimaced and walked up behind her.

The Elf heard her and whirled around, eyes full of fear. Shannon smiled.

"_Im_ Luke Skywalker; _odulen an edraith angin_."

Whatever the girl expected, it wasn't that. "_You... speak..._"

_"I've always wanted to say that_," Shannon smirked, then added, "_Yes I do, but I hate to, so don't get excited about it._" The girl slowly stood, watching the dangerously unpredictable woman fearfully. Noting her expression, Shannon nodded approvingly. "_Good_._ Don't get friendly. I hate your kind, and if you were older I wouldn't give a damn about you. Probably kill you where you stand. But you're a kid. So I've got something for you._"

The _tark_ pulled a small pouch out of her pocket and handed it to Leni. _"You grind these up to get the powder out. Don't get it in your eyes, don't breathe it in, don't taste it. Lethal stuff. Anybody you don't like, sprinkle it on their meat. It'll take about three, four days – very miserable, painful, horrible days – and they'll die._"

Leni's eyes widened and she glanced down at the pouch as though it might bite her hand. Looking imploringly into Shannon's eyes, she shook her head. "_I cannot do that_."

Shannon gave her a stern, almost bizarrely parental glare. "_Let me set you straight on something. Freedom isn't free. If it's worth anything to you, you'll kill for it. Or you can just wait them out. I'm sure Orcs die _eventually_. Can you outlast them? Do you _want_ to? Do you want to stand by and watch another village go down? Do you want to watch them do the same thing to the Brat they're doing to you? Because you didn't think it was worth killing for?"_

Looking away, Leni's eyes filled with tears, imagining all this woman said. She stared hard at the bag in her hand. Shannon grabbed her wrist painfully and shook her, forcing the girl to look her in the eyes again. _"Don't you dare use it on yourself. Don't leave that kid here alone._"

Leni shook her head sharply. Shannon nodded once and started to turn away, then said, "_I'd appreciate it if you waited until I left. I don't like surprises. They make me very angry."_ Again, Leni vigorously shook her head and clutched the pouch to her chest. Shannon nodded once more and strode away.

The _tark_ didn't go far before the very scent she suspected she'd pick up wafted by. Smirking, she diverted her path and walked over to a thick tree. Reaching around the trunk, she grabbed a thin arm and yanked Nazluk out of hiding.

"Failing completely to mind our own business, are we?" she growled.

Recovering himself, the Orc smirked. "I suspected as much. For all your talk, you're still a fucking _tark_ who sides with Elves, eh?"

"Know thine enemy," she replied mildly.

He blinked, startled. "What?"

"Always learn the tongue of your enemy," Shannon said. "Then you'll _know_ them."

He narrowed his eyes and cast a sidelong look at her. "Elves are _your_ enemies?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "I don't like'em. They piss me off. So... _perfect_. Self-righteous. Like everything they do and say and think is the _law_ and is _right_. Automatically. Because they're _Elves_." She shrugged. "And they kill my friends without so much as a by-your-leave."

"And who might your 'friends' be?" Nazluk growled.

"Duh?" she said sarcastically.

Curling his lip in a snarl, he growled, "What did you say to her in that foul tongue?"

"Like that's _your_ business or something."

"I can make her tell me," he suggested, fingering the hilt of a dagger at his hip.

Shannon shrugged with little interest. "I don't fucking care. Do what you like." Turning, she started to walk away then halted. Nazluk licked his lips and grinned. _Crawl back and beg me not to hurt your Elf friend_, he thought.

Regarding him thoughtfully, she said, "Let me give you a piece of advice, from one cocksucker to another: Set the terms, and defend them."

Nazluk startled and frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do. _Set the terms_," she repeated. "You are a pent up, stuck up, stopped up little bitch. You need to relax. You wanna fuck, go fuck. _Set the terms._"

Left eye twitching a bit, the Orc stared hard at her. He swallowed nervously. Growling low, he hissed, "It is not so easy as _that_."

She arched her brow. "Not so easy? You miserable little pisspot. I had three shieldbrothers fresh out of Isengard, _easily_ as big as Bragdagash, each one of them. I set the terms, I defended them, and we had no quarrel."

Nazluk blinked. She'd mentioned 'shieldbrothers' in camp, but not a number or anything else about them. Other than that they hunted Elves... "Three?" he asked.

"Uh huh," she nodded. "Absolutely." She held her arms out away from her body. "I'm no bigger than you. There are ways, and there are _ways_. I'm sure you're clever enough to discover them on your own. Set... the terms. And get your head outta your ass." Nodding sharply once, she headed back to camp.

Nazluk stood there blinking for several minutes, unsure how to process her 'advice.'

* * *

Tensions were a bit higher when Shannon returned, but she ignored them. Spotting the smallest Orc sitting on the ground with his back to one of the logs, she smiled and went to sit next to him. He jumped with surprise that she'd come to _him_ out of the blue, and even moreso when she dropped a companionable arm around his shoulders.

"Name?"

"Uh... Grymawk," he replied uncertainly. His gaze flicked around the others, watching with varying degrees of uncertainty and worry.

She gave his shoulders a squeeze. "Hey. I feel bad. You're the only one worth fucking I haven't had yet. What can I do you for, huh?"

Grymawk blinked rapidly and his breath quickened. Darting a look at Bragdagash and the others, he curled his lip at them. "Fuck you. Fuck you _all_." Then he turned to Shannon. "Suck me off?"

She grinned. "Sure. I'd be happy to do that for you." Pivoting around, she untied the laces of his breeches. Grymawk gasped with surprise as she took him, right there in front of everyone. He slumped against the log and moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Many of the Orcs' reservations were shelved for the time being.

Finishing Grymawk didn't take long. Tucking him back in and lacing him up, Shannon grinned at his satisfied and sleepy look. Then she stood up. Pointing at Hrahragh, she jerked her head at the trees. She didn't even look back as she went inside the copse.

"You going?" Grushak asked warily. Hrahragh shrugged and followed her.

Unlike the last time with her, she didn't seem interested in an endless fuck. That was fine with him; he didn't want to wait on the release either. Obviously aroused by what she did to Grymawk, she shed her clothes quickly and pulled him to her.

"Up against the tree," she breathed, putting her back to it. "Hold me up." Slightly confused, he let her drop his loincloth then found her positioning his arms so they lifted her clear off the ground. With her knees hooked over his arms, she was spread wide open. "Now fuck me. _Hard_," she commanded fiercely, clutching his shoulders and digging in her nails.

He needed no further urging, and thrust into her deeply. She rested her head back against the tree and sighed. "That's good, Hrahragh. Oh, that's good." His hips rocked as he pounded into her, shaking the tree behind her.

It was a quick one, Hrahragh grunting his completion as he spasmodically thrust a few last times. Panting from the sharp force of her own orgasm, Shannon breathed, "Send in Braggy." He eased her back to earth and nodded.

When Bragdagash entered the copse, she said, "Take off all your clothes this time, Braggy. I'm gonna be all over you like white on rice."

Blinking, he obeyed without asking what the hell rice was. The scent of sex was once again clouding the copse and he forgot entirely about earlier suspicions and strange kill wounds. He started out on top of her, nearly reaching his peak, when she rolled him over unexpectedly. Once she was comfortably riding him, she began to bite and gnaw and claw all over his chest and shoulders and neck. He clutched her ass tightly, wincing and flinching, growling and snarling, as her teeth ravaged his flesh.

All else be damned, Bragdagash knew he'd wear those marks proudly.

Her body shuddered and she moaned deep in her throat as she came, and he found it impossible not to follow suit while her quim rippled and squeezed around his cock in spasms of pleasure.

Then she was off him and wiping herself down. Bragdagash sat up and regarded her.

"You aren't staying, are you?" he asked quietly.

Shannon met his gaze and slowly shook her head. He debated _making_ her stay, but the look in Mushog's eyes... He wasn't sure he'd feel comfortable with her around. Probably best just to let her go her way. But still...

"When're you leaving?"

"I have a bit of... business with Mushog to attend to, then I'm off," she replied.

"What'd you do to him?"

A half smile turned up one side of her mouth. "That's between him and me."

Bragdagash could tell she wasn't going to elaborate. "These, uh... shieldbrothers of yours..."

"Dead," she replied stiffly.

"How long?"

She hesitated for several moments, looking away and furrowing her brow. "Two weeks at most," she finally said with a shrug.

"All Uruk-hai?" he asked, arching his brow. She nodded. "Your... preference, then?" She grinned by way of answer. "Shouldn't let you just walk away," he said as he stood up and began dressing.

"Do you really think you stand a chance of stopping me?" she asked challengingly.

Remembering that strange wound on the deer and what it implied – death without a chance of survival, and no ability to avoid it – he looked into her eyes and swallowed. "No. I don't think I do."

"Wise. That's _also_ why you're the leader." Sighing, she said, "I've enjoyed you guys. Really. Maybe we'll cross paths again some day."

"Yeah," he replied, rather hoping they didn't. "You, uh... want me to send him back?"

"No," she said with a slight smile. "I'll call him."

* * *

Mushog hadn't taken his eyes off the campfire, though he wasn't really looking at it, since she disappeared into the copse with Hrahragh. Now that Bragdagash had emerged, he began to shiver with dreadful anticipation.

"Mushog," she said softly.

Hesitating a moment, the Uruk slowly rose to his feet. His breathing irregular, he tried to cobble together some backbone, some dignity, some _will_... Tension rising, he turned toward the copse and raised his eyes to look at her naked form, waiting patiently for him with a confident smile on her face.

He swallowed hard and dropped his eyes to the ground at her feet. His trembling increased.

All eyes were on him; he could _feel_ them. Wondering what he was going to do. Likely wondering why he wasn't leaping into the bushes at her. Because he _wanted_ to. There was sex waiting for him if he'd just take a step toward it. A really good fuck was coming, if he'd just... give in. Admit she owned him. Come when she called. Like a dog.

He didn't know what she had planned this time. The copse or the clearing? If he didn't come, she might not fuck him again. Or she might do worse than fuck him. And he may not want her to stop.

Gnawing his lip with indecision, he stood there quivering for several moments. He didn't want her to do all that shit to him again, but he did. It was horrible and he hated it and loved it and needed it and wanted it... And now she was going to make him crawl like a bitch to her in front of everyone.

She just stood there waiting, patting her thigh slowly in a steady rhythm. Calling him to heel.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Mushog bowed his head and walked slowly to the copse. When he reached her, she gently laid her hand on his ass, and he flinched. His breath quickened for a moment and he stopped. She lightly caressed his backside.

As they disappeared into the bushes, the Orcs exchanged shocked looks. None could say they'd ever seen anything like it.

* * *

"I'm pleased," Shannon said softly as she undressed him. Noting how he trembled, she gave him a sympathetic look. "No need for worry, Mushog. You've been a good boy. Time for your present."

"What... what do you want me to do?"

"I'll _let_ you be on top," she said, making sure he knew where he still stood with her. "But the game is still the same. Make me come."

He nodded, and obediently sank to his knees. She sat down in front of him, spreading her legs, and leaned back. He advanced slowly and, grabbing himself with a shaking hand, positioned his cock at her entrance and thrust into her.

Her brutal lessons paid off handsomely as he drove her to a shuddering orgasm. Yet even with her gasping and moaning in his ear, biting his flesh and clawing his ass, he knew better than to come. It hurt not to, but if he didn't wait for permission...

"Okay," she said breathlessly, "you can come now."

With grateful relief, he let go.

* * *

Mushog sensed something different in her movements as she dressed in the copse. For the first time since she arrived, she secured her belt about her waist, the dirk at her hip. Then she shouldered her pack.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" he asked cautiously. He was sitting with his arms resting on his drawn-up knees. His clothes still lay in a heap on the ground.

She looked down at him. "Yeah."

"For good?"

She nodded, then smiled a little. "Maybe we'll see each other again."

He bowed his head for a moment. "Take me with you?" he asked quietly. Looking up, he swallowed. "I could... I could be your shieldbrother."

Shannon slowly shook her head. "You will _never_ be my shieldbrother. That is a position you _earn_."

Frowning with a spark of indignation, he growled, "What about those three you were fucking?"

"You think I was fucking them from day one?" she asked incredulously. "Huh-uh. That didn't come till much later. And as I recall, it was my idea. No. We looked out for each other. We fought for each other. We would all _die_ for each other." Arching her brow, she fixed him with an intense glare. "Are you willing to die for me, Mushog?"

He actually had to think about it. Was a fuck worth his life? Even a _lot_ of fucking? Really _good_ fucking? It seemed to be worth his will, but his _life_?

It pained him to have to shake his head.

"That's what I thought," she smirked. "I don't need a fuck toy. I'll do just fine on my own. There's plenty of dick out there; I won't suffer." Leaning over, she caressed his face and whispered in his ear, "Thanks for thinking of me, though." Then she turned around and walked away, disappearing into the trees within moments.

Mushog sat naked on the ground, wondering what the fuck hit him, knowing it would never hit him again, and already mourning the loss.

* * *

**Translation:**

_Im_ Luke Skywalker; _odulen an edraith angin_. = I'm Luke Skywalker; I'm here to rescue you.

_Courtesy of the Merin Essi ar Quenteli, AKA realelvish dot net community. Thanks, guys!_


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